


Birthday Blues

by guardiansofthefantasy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, I don't know what else to say, They just talk, This is just a hot mess, about birthdays and growing up and families and their teammates, but i hope it makes you smile anyway, for like 1.7k, just yahaba and matsukawa talking, kind of stream of consciousness, no beta we die like fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardiansofthefantasy/pseuds/guardiansofthefantasy
Summary: Yahaba and Matsukawa are locked out of the gym.“They're planning a surprise,” Matsukawa says, seemingly unbothered by it. Yahaba isn't sure if he has the patience to deal with it today.“They do this every year and they're never subtle,” he grumbles and slumps down on the stairs in front of the gym.Matsukawa shrugs. “I know. It's kind of sweet though.” He sits down next to Yahaba, tilting his head. Something is glinting in his eyes, and Yahaba insistently hopes it's just the reflection of the sun. “They always look so proud of themselves.”Matsukawa and Yahaba sitting outside the gym on their birthday and talk.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei & Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Birthday Blues

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one sitting, and I did not read over this again.  
> fueled solely by me wanting to write a short fic because it's Matsukawa's and Yahaba's birthday

Yahaba and Matsukawa are locked out of the gym. 

“They're planning a surprise,” Matsukawa says, seemingly unbothered by it. Yahaba isn't sure if he has the patience to deal with it today. 

“They do this every year and they're never subtle,” he grumbles and slumps down on the stairs in front of the gym.

Matsukawa shrugs. “I know. It's kind of sweet though.” He sits down next to Yahaba, tilting his head. Something is glinting in his eyes, and Yahaba insistently hopes it's just the reflection of the sun. “They always look so proud of themselves.”

“I can't believe you're turning eighteen today,” Yahaba mutters, lost in thought. Next year on this day,  _ he'd  _ be the one to turn eighteen and prepare to graduate. Like Matsukawa now, maybe he won't even be in the club anymore on his birthday. And he'd sit on the stairs alone–since Yahaba joined the volleyball club, he didn’t have a moment of peace on his birthday between his teammates and his family. 

His brothers insist on helping him unpack his gifts; his younger brother, because he's young and impatient and likes ripping paper, and his older brother because he can't stand not being the center of attention. Sometimes, Yahaba is grateful for it, since it means he doesn't have to be. 

He still likes to unwrap his own gifts, though, and he doesn't hesitate to start a fight on his birthday on why they're not allowed to touch his gifts. 

The team—well, they always start some sort of make-shift celebration, planned mere hours in the night before. Matsukawa is right though. They always look proud of themselves, and Yahaba would be lying if he said it didn’t warm his heart. 

“So, what is it like being the youngest third year on the team?” Yahaba asks, staring up at the sky. The weather is nice, a few white clouds spotted between blue. 

Matsukawa shrugs. “Not much different than being the youngest second year, I bet.” He turns his head and Yahaba can feel Matsukawa’s eyes on him. “How’s the captain thing going?”

“Ugh,” Yahaba groans. “I don’t know how Oikawa did it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matsukawa says light-hearted. (Easy for him to say, Yahaba thinks, he’s never been the captain.) “Oikawa’s had more trouble with it than you can imagine.” He hums. “Probably more than he let on, too.”

“He’s had the advantage of being captain for the Spring Tournament Preliminaries in his second year already.”

Matsukawa shrugs. “Maybe so, but the circumstances were different.” Yahaba knows he’s still looking at him. He tries to focus on the clouds, slowly making their way through the sky. 

“I’ve never wanted to skip afternoon practice so bad,” Yahaba mumbles. 

“Got plans with your family later?” Matsukawa asks even though he knows the answer—Yahaba told him his family’s birthday tradition last time, and this year won’t be any different. 

“Yeah.” Matsukawa makes a noise of acknowledgement. 

“Me too,” he says then. Yahaba knows that, as well. 

They sit in silence for another minute, listening to the yells from inside the gym. 

“Well, aren’t we lucky we don’t have another year of this together,” Matsukawa speaks up when something that sounds suspiciously much like a crash silences the voices. “What would we talk about? We can barely hold a conversation as it is.” 

Yahaba huffs and looks at him. “Maybe if you gave me advice on being a captain.”

“Ah,” Matsukawa grins, “I could of course do that, but I will not be held accountable for any mishaps and such.”

“Of course.” Yahaba tilts his head. “Do you think we’ll get new members next year? Without Oikawa in the team?”

“I think you mean  _ ‘without Iwaizumi on the team’ _ ,” Matsukawa corrects with a serious expression. “I’m ninety-eight percent certain at least forty-three percent of the team only joined because of him.” He pauses and grins. “I did.”

Yahaba looks at him doubtfully. “I joined because I wanted to play volleyball. I assume so did the others.”

“Everyone on the team has had a crush on our Ace at one point,” Matsukawa says surely.

“I didn’t.”

There’s that lazy smirk Yahaba never really liked—it smells like trouble and some weird sort of psycho-analysis. “Not even on the current Ace?”

“No,” Yahaba says, and then he glares at Matsukawa because this isn’t a topic he wants to delve into right now, or today, or at all. “Are you sure we won’t have troubles finding new members?” 

“Yeah.” Matsukawa smiles at him, warm and brotherly, and Yahaba wonders why his own brother always has to get awkward whenever he asks him for advice. It clearly can’t be that hard to be nice and helpful. “Don’t worry about it. And if you have any troubles, you tell us and we’ll come over and recruit them ourselves.”

“Aren’t Oikawa and Iwaizumi going to America?”

“But Makki and I will still be around,” Matsukawa says and raises an eyebrow impressively. “Or do you doubt  _ our  _ power?”

Yahaba scoffs, but he can’t help but smile. “Not at all.”

“See? Plus, I’m incredibly good at cheering people up.” 

“Somehow,” Yahaba admits. “It’s a little bit freaky.”

“Between the two of us,” Matsukawa says and leans in, “you might be my favourite kouhai.”

Yahaba raises an eyebrow at him (not as impressive as Matsukawa can), and keeps a straight face. “Because we share a birthday?”

There’s an indignant sputter. “What kind of person would I be if I chose my favourites just because we share a birthday?” Matsukawa presses a hand to his heart dramatically. “You think so little of me.”

“Definitely don’t,” Yahaba assures him and smiles. So maybe this is the best part of his birthday—it might be the only moment of peace he gets.

“Do you ever think about how fast you grow up?” Matsukawa says and no, Yahaba was wrong, there is no moment of peace for him. 

“Rarely,” he answers, his eyes back on the clouds. “Makes me nostalgic. I don’t like the feeling a lot.”

“Oh,” Matsukawa says, “yeah, me neither. Can’t stop thinking about it. I mean,  _ eighteen. _ In a few years I’ll be doing adult-stuff and all that—can you imagine? Living somewhere and going to work.” Matsukawa sighs. When Yahaba looks at him, there’s a frown etched between his brows. “Maybe getting married and all that. Time passes so fast. You blink and  _ snap _ your childhood is over.”

“Okay,” Yahaba interrupts, “I get it. It makes me  _ sad.  _ And it makes me think too much. Let’s talk about something else.”

Matsukawa’s face relaxes a little and he leans back. “Alright, Captain.” 

Instead of talking, they sit in silence again, for a few seconds. Matsukawa shifts and rests his elbows on his knees. “So, how’s school going?”

“No,” Yahaba groans, “please no. This is so awkward. This is worse than talking to my brother when he visits home.”

Matsukawa chuckles. “I wonder if my siblings will say the same about me in a few years.” There’s the frown again, and Yahaba resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Why exactly is growing up so hard and sad and difficult? He’s not equipped or qualified to deal with birthday blues. Not in general, and especially not on his own birthday.

“They’ll be happy you’re visiting at all,” he informs Matsukawa, “and they’ll have expectations for every visit that you can’t fulfill. It’s all super disappointing until everyone gets used to it.”

“Huh.” 

“Do you think they’re done any time soon?” Yahaba asks then, jerking his head towards the gym behind them.

“Unlikely, knowing Oikawa.”

“What are they even doing?”

Matsukawa shrugs, stretching his legs. “Trying to blow balloons, maybe.”

“Hanging up weird garlands that don’t even spell  _ Happy Birthday, _ ” Yahaba suggests.

“Someone probably brought paper streamers.”

“Maybe even a banner.”

“Last minute baking a cake.” 

“Trying to light the candles but they keep falling over.”

“The cake’s burning.”

“Someone’s probably yelling.” 

They fall quiet. Someone is, in fact, yelling inside.

“Iwaizumi?” Yahaba guesses.

“Iwaizumi.”

Luckily for their teammates (or ex-teammates, in Matsukawa’s case), the yelling dies down soon, quickly followed by laughter.

“Kinda weird that they’re having fun on our birthday without us,” Matsukawa says, grinning amused.

“Why does Oikawa bother?” Yahaba asks thoughtfully. “He doesn’t have to go through any trouble to make anyone feel special on their birthday.”

“He knows,” Matsukawa hums. “But he likes it. The entire ‘going out of his way to do something nice for others.’ Makes him feel like he cares about others.”

“Kind of a rude thing to say.”

“Maybe. But I asked him, once. It’s what he told me. Birthdays are really special to him, so he can’t stand the thought that someone else maybe doesn’t even celebrate their birthday.” Matsukawa grins. “I remember when Watari told him he usually doesn’t really do anything special on his birthday. Oikawa was so confused.”

“Honestly, so was I,” Yahaba admits. “Guess that’s part of growing up a certain way. Family traditions are weird, aren’t they?”

“Oh, most definitely.” Matsukawa grins. “I’ve had so many discussions about weird family traditions with Makki. Can you believe they eat the same meal every Sunday? It honestly baffled me.”

“Kyoutani told me once that his family doesn’t eat dinner together every evening.”

“Weird, we do that to catch up. Since we don’t really have another moment as a family for that.”

“Yeah,” Yahaba says, “us too. Sometimes I think about how lucky I am for that.”

Matsukawa hums in agreement. “I think I’ll miss that.”

“If you start that again, I will get up and leave,” Yahaba warns. “I’m not going to listen to any of that again.”

“Kind of a rude thing to say,” Matsukawa says, almost mockingly, but he’s smiling and he drops the topic.

The gym door flies open. Yahaba and Matsukawa whip around at almost the exact time and stare at Kindaichi. “You’re allowed to come in now,” the first year says, his face and neck equally red. He looks at them nervously, as if he’s not sure how to treat them.

Matsukawa claps his hands and gets up. “Finally! Took long enough.”

Yahaba gets up as well and grabs his bag. He doubts he’ll ever really grasp Oikawa’s need for these small parties, but he likes them all the same—nothing quite like spending a few hours on your birthday with the people important to you, just having fun.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/heamptyart)


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